Personality Flip
by ThisStatementIsFalse
Summary: Merasmus did something wrong here… the RED mercs all have inverted personalities! Stuff goes down! Spinoff eight in the Misadventures of the RED Team series
1. Moron Merasmus

**What's up guys! :D**

**Yup, it's the RED Team back to bring the insanity! Hope you like it :p**

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Chapter One – Merasmus Is a Moron and Fails Are To Be Had

~RACCOON SANCTUARY~

Traditionally, raccoon sanctuaries weren't situated in ancient castles once belonging to freelancing wizards, but logic was scarcely considered necessary around the Badlands. In the old building, amidst the odd abundance of sour cream and the small raccoon revolution, a tallish man clad in dark robes and a funky-looking skull hat abruptly jumped up and down on the spot;

"I did it!" the magician, for that's what he was, hurr durr, cried gleefully. Then he realised no one was here nearby to bask in his eureka vibes and rushed to fix that. He casually but clumsily levitated his way down the rather dreary hallways.

Seriously if he chose some nicer colours he could be in business. But I digress.

"Bombinomicon!" the wizard/magician (what even is he) barrelled into the castle library, shout accompanied by haunting echoes.

"What do you want, Merasmus?" a large, worn book on a table grumbled, "I'm reading."

Merasmus paused for a moment, wondering exactly how a book went about reading and if that was remotely normal. He shuddered the unease away and got all giddy again;

"_I did it_!" he announced loudly, making sure he got directly in the Bombinomicon's face (?) and dominated the book's vision. The bomb manual's pages rustled dryly as they shifted.

"Did what." It asked in such a bored, uninterested tone it doesn't deserve a question mark. Merasmus pouted. Damn book could _act _like it cared…

"I," he went on in earnest nevertheless, "found out where the Soldier is! THE WORST ROOMMATE EVER WHO RUINED THIS CASTLE. WHO BROUGHT THESE _GOSH DARN _RACCOONS."

He may not have said 'gosh darn'.

He may also have accidently summoned some random green electricity like he always did when he got a little emotional. Then he wanted cake.

"Anyway," the wizard went on, oddly calm and subdued, "I'm going to get my revenge on that fool." He realised his levitation thing had gone a little out of whack and he was flat against the roof. The Bombinomicon either didn't notice or didn't feel like mentioning it, so the book just went with,

"Yeah you have fun with that, buddy. I gotta date with a cook book, so-"

"No, you're staying and watching this," Merasmus insisted, grabbing the poor book and swooping out of the room (after clonking his head off the doorframe twice.) "The plan," he continued, adjusting his hat-thingy, "is to cast my _not exactly stable _long range violent explosion spell. _It may also be untested_."

The Bombinomicon didn't even have time to check if there were two disclaimers in that plan before they arrived at… wherever they were going. It appeared to be a rather clichéd medieval lab complete with cauldron. Merasmus plopped to the floor with all the grace of an anvil from Acme.

"This will teach Soldier to _never _anger a wizard!" he proclaimed, shooting upright like nothing happened. Of course, it _had _happened, and that meant he had a slight concussion that slightly inflicted on his judgment.

So he chucked all the safety procedures into the metaphorical shredder in the back corner of his cranium. Envisioning the red coloured, quite crooked building he had found his old roommate Soldier to be in, Merasmus went ahead and made his spell.

~MEANWHILE, IN THE RED BASE~

Peaceful days were a rare luxury in the RED base of nine batcrap crazy mercenaries.

So naturally they weren't having one today either.

"_Scout. Stop. Hitting. Me_!"

"NO! GO 'WAY!"

Scout continued running in circles, lobbing a seemingly infinite supply of apples at Medic. The poor doctor had his suspicions that baseball-obsessed Scout was occasionally the pitcher. He abruptly forgot the thought when yet another apple thumped him in the head.

"RIGHT, YOU ARE DEAD." He whipped out his bonesaw and gave chase with his 'doctor assisted homicide' expression. Scout yelped and put on a burst of speed, screaming,

"SOLDIER! Soldier you lied! You said apples made doctors stay away!"

Soldier himself suddenly appeared, having dropped through one of many gaps in the roof. The offense class arrived to the not-as-unusual-as-you-might-think sight of Scout and Medic fighting in the kitchen.

"I did?" he asked, sitting calmly on the table and subtly dusting the rubble away. "I meant rockets. Rockets keep most things away. Not tapirs though. That was a weird day."

The nostalgic Soldier zoned out for a few moments, content to ignore the conflict, when the entire base was suddenly enveloped in a massive flash of electric green light.

Once the crackling noise died down and the light faded out, the mercs found themselves standing perfectly still for several seconds, then Scout made a peculiar little squeak and abruptly bolted from the room.

Medic's bonesaw clattered to the ground as he hefted his medigun and hurried after him, sounding genuinely concerned as he called after the smaller merc. Soldier hopped daintily down from the table and flounced after them, humming a sickeningly happy little ditty as he skipped along.

None too far away from whatever _that_ was, Sniper had been chilling out on the sniping platform quite peacefully one minute, then a mere heartbeat later he decided he desperately needed social interaction and all but jumped to the ground to find someone.

He crash landed directly on top of the Heavy, who didn't even react as the Australian bounced off his skull. It took the defence class a couple of minutes before he noticed the man at his feet.

"Oh, good chap!" he cried, the oddest sounding sentence in a Russian accent, "Are you alright?" he helped the Sniper up with a little too much oomph and had to catch him again after he hit the underside of the balcony.

The Engineer popped up at one of the downstairs windows and threw a wrench at the pair of them. Yup; straight through the glass.

"KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE!" he yelled, making a whole bunch of assorted angry gestures. The Spy, who up until this point had been sneaking quietly behind Engy with the intention of scaring him, farted loudly, surprised himself, and promptly fell over. He spun on the floor blurting some rather odd cuss words.

In the next room, Demo had heard the shouting and jauntily sauntered toward it to put an end to the hostility, when a rather moody-looking Pyro shoved past him and punched the nearest wall, storming off again with a grouchy murmur.

Okay, I'll call it now; something weird was going on there.

~MERASMUS' CASTLE (TECHNICALLY IT'S SOLDIER'S I SUPPOSE LET'S NOT GET INTO THAT NOW~

"Uh oh."

If there was one thing in particular the Bombinomicon did not like Merasmus saying, it would definitely be 'Uh oh' or variations thereof. It waited uneasily for the magician to say more.

"I used the wrong spell…" Merasmus shifted anxiously, turning to the Bombinomicon.

"WHAT?" the book frowned as best as it could.

"That was the personality-switchy spell…"

"… You gotta get new names for these." Bombinomicon replied, as though that was the biggest concern right now. "What's it do?"

"Exactly what is _says_ it does, fool," the wizard said irritably, pacing without pacing because he was floating. "And it's irreversible as far as I know."

"Yeah, but, you don't know anything."

That was a fair point, so Merasmus just pouted and decided he didn't really want to be in this story anymore.

~BACK AT THE BASE~

Heavy had politely called for Medic upon the Sniper-falling-from-great-height-then-getting-hit- upside-the-head-with-a-wrench scenario. The doctor zipped over there in record time, sprinting like the fate of the world and all the doves in it were at stake.

"IS EVERYBODY OKAY?" he seemed truly horrified, "MEIN GOTT YOU'RE NOT DIEING ARE YOU!?" He ran around overhealing all the nearby teammates whether they needed it or not. "It's okay… it's okaaaay," he assured himself as much as the others, keeping a very tense stance with the medigun poised.

The Sniper coughed.

"ARE YOU CHOKING!?" Medic demanded, springing over there and babbling incoherent German. Sniper fought him off awkwardly and firmly established the 'Get This Close and I Hit You' zone. Then after a few seconds of silence the marksman sprung haphazardly into the air, resembling the ending scene of too many mind-numbing musicals, and claimed;

"WE SHOULD 'AVE A PARTY!" he zipped toward the garage, "I'LL GO GET DIP!"

"Make sure you don't trip," Medic called weakly after him, turning to face Heavy. He did a quick double take. "Are you vearing a monocle?"

"Da," Heavy replied casually, surveying their surroundings with an air of importance.

"…Okay zhen."

~REC ROOM~

The Demoman watched on in bewilderment as the rather aggressive Engineer and extremely klutzy Spy romped about the rec room, smashing just about everything. Including limbs.

Maybe one was trying to kill the other, maybe they were attempting to redecorate, but we'll never really know.

What Demo knew, however, was that violence was not the answer. Surely, the way to stop such a thing, was with violence.

Or it would have been. Demo was feeling a little odd today, as though a wizard had gone and messed up his personality. But like _that _could happen.

Now, he thought the way forward would be some kind of intervention. OOH! There could be hats and everything! Planning time!

~UPSTAIRS~

"It's okay friend!" Soldier called in a soft voice no one previously knew he could speak in, "This is a _safe space_." He ambled down the hallways, lightly stepping over the alarming number of cracks. Also he seemed to be spawning flowers with his every footfall.

The Scout, though, was hiding in a corner, shyly trying to avoid his teammate. Of course at that point moody-teenager-type Pyro suddenly barged through the wall he was leaning against. Then Pyro got mad because _look at that stupid little fluffy cloud right out the window there all happy and such_, and dramatically shot a flare at the poor thing.

Incidentally kids, clouds can catch fire in fiction. LEARN.

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**This is most odd.**

**Thanks for reading! (And happy Father's Day, Dad!) :)**


	2. Dealing With Dip

**You guys! Thank you so much for all the reviews! :D**

**Oh, forgot again; I don't own TF2 or any of the song lyrics I may or may not use :p**

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Chapter Two – Dealing With Dip and Other Misadventures

~DRIVING ON THE ROAD TO SOMEWHERE~

Sniper, evidently, had found a way of head bopping using his entire body. RV was blaring _What Is Love?_ full blast as she drove down one of the city roads.

"Ain't this AWESOME, RV!?" Sniper yelled, probably rhetorically. But you can't always tell. "I STILL DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!"

RV had no idea what was going on with Sniper, but her sneaky oops-the-door-hit-you Spycheck proved it _was _him. She likely would be bothered by this had they not been going to get dip.

~RED BASE~

Prometheus sat quietly in one corner of Engy's workshop, thinking about everything. And nothing. The little Aperture Science turret usually chilled out over here with Teddy Roosebelt and exchanged science banter, but his bear bro had some business to attend to.

Hm. Prometheus figured he could think about that. The mercs were being, well, not themselves. Namely, they were _different_ crazy. Surely though, if the turret put his mind to it-

Know what? Pro much preferred lemon trivia. He went back to that.

~KITCHEN~

Prepare your ass for the most average sentence ever.

Medic was busy baby proofing the kitchen.

Yeah. With his sudden and excessive concern for his teammates, the doctor realised how dangerous a place the RED base was. He constantly froze while bubble wrapping everything to listen out for anyone calling Medic.

Heavy watched on from the table, trying on assorted top hats while he sipped a cup of tea. Due to a slight complication, he'd managed to eat the monocle, so that was gone, but he looked kinda regal nonetheless.

"Doctor?"

"WHAT IS IT ARE YOU HURT!?" Medic dived onto and slid across the table, holding the medigun like a battering ram. Heavy blinked.

"Uh, no," he carefully shoved the doctor off the table, "I was thinking we should have tea party!"

The pros and cons immediately began war inside Medic's head. _Okay so everyone would be together so he could keep an eye on them but what if they fought oh God deep breaths no wait what if the tea burned them oh dis is bad_.

"…Ja, alright."

If you haven't noticed, a lot of things are being organised right now. I don't foresee this causing any problems.

~REC ROOM~

The Demoman had borrowed some of Pyro's crayons to draw up a nice, (grossly incorrectly spelled) intervention banner. Engy had taken to grumpily sitting on a chair with his arms folded, glaring as Demo put the sign up. Spy had tried to leave several times, but he tripped over _everything _and was currently trapped underneath a shoe.

Demo finished setting up and promptly executed the Backflip of Getting Down From Chairs. He grabbed the Spy and lobbed him onto the couch beside Engy, where his entire head just about vanished into the cushions.

"This," the Demoman started regardless, "is an intervention. Engy, Spy, lads, it's-"

"I'M WALKIN' ON SUNSHINE!" Soldier bellowed full blast, blitzing through the room at an enthusiastic skip, "WOAH!" He performed a neat little split jump right in the middle of the intervention then frolicked his way outside to plant some flowers.

The sheer volume of this not only made the three present mercs blanch in horror; it also sent something of a shockwave through the walls. Said shockwave carried on upward, made the second floor physically _move_, and proceeded to make a bottle fall from a gap in the ceiling.

The currently-sober Demoman had a very short time to identify the bottle as scrumpy before it whacked him in the face.

~UP THEM STAIRS~

Scout was carefully making his way through the base, keeping close to the partially-red-with-paint-mostly-red-with-blood walls. Hopefully he could find a quiet wee area to just chill out-

Scout let out another terrified squeak as Pyro appeared out of nowhere, partially on fire. The pyromaniac skipped formalities and asked a question, which – though he had understood it – Scout was too shy answer. He awkwardly tried to shuffle away, only to be followed by an increasingly gesticulating Pyro.

Two laps of the corridor and a failed attempt at climbing the wall later, the timid Scout was cornered and Pyro was full-on headless-chicken flapping. It screamed the seemingly-important question one more time.

"Um." Scout mumbled quietly, "Th- the bathroom's over there… i-it's marked 'Gibus Room'…"

Pyro made a noise like 'FINALLY!' and kicked in the bathroom door. Only problem was it snapped back on its hinges and flung Pyro out the nearest window.

Scout wisely fled to his room.

~GARAGE~

Sniper and RV blasted back through the teleporter and into the garage in a pwetty shower of deadly burning sparks. Sniper flipped straight through the windshield and hit the floor alongside several pots of dip.

"Now it's a party!" the marksman announced, maybe a tad dizzily. Naturally Medic launched himself into the room not two seconds later and individually healed the merc, van and every flavour of dip. The doctor saluted then just as quickly vanished.

"…That was odd." Sniper observed, and RV partially Transformed in order to shrug. "Welp. PARTY TIME, MATE!"

Sniper did a one armed cartwheel, grabbing the dip with his other arm, and flew out the door. Oh, there was _no way in Hell _RV was missing this. She flipped caution a sweet goodbye and trundled into the base after him.

~KITCHEN~

The bubble wrap acting as a table cloth made a satisfying popping sound as gentleman Heavy set the final teacup down in its precise place. Medic had returned, checked everything was in order, and tensely hovered in a kind-of-sitting-down position as the 'guests' arrived.

Guests included Spy and Engy, who, upon entering the room, belligerently asked;

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"Tea?" Heavy responded pleasantly, unabashed. Soldier sauntered into the kitchen at that moment, uniform covered in flowers and helmet replaced with both a crown of them and his tiara.

"Hello maggot friends," he said warmly, ballerina-leaping into a chair.

"Yeah whatever." Engy half-acknowledged grumpily. Spy blurted out a laugh as though this was hilarious and proceeded to fall off his chair.

He landed on the floor just in time for the speeding Sniper to trip right over him.

_EPIC SLOW MOTION TIME_

"HOOOOOLY DOOOOOLEY!"

Dip went flying.

"MEEEEEDIIIIIC!"

Spy went flying.

"MMMMRPH!"

Pyro whizzed past the window.

"WHAAAAT THE HEEEELL?"

The reader got confused.

_LESS EPIC REAL TIME SPEED_

Somehow, basically, the dip and tea formed a hybrid of questionable logic. Spy met the far wall and outside Pyro met the ground. Sniper landed in a chair just as RV appeared in the door and immediately reversed away for sanity purposes.

"You need healz?" Medic checked, dashing around and training his medigun on everyone remotely involved. Engy silently did a nope-dot-avi as the mercs straightened themselves out.

Pyro's head materialised at the window, the very 'bro srsly' expression reverberating through the gasmask. One fire-y punch later it clambered through to join the tea party, casually ignoring the broken glass now adorning its suit.

With that the seven of them settled down, screwed up personalities and all, to enjoy a little tea. With dip. Social Sniper dominated the conversation without seeming to realise he was still head bopping.

Anyone going for a wee walk out in the middle of nowhere might walk past the RED base and see this nice little scene; teammates gathered around a slightly undersized, largely beaten up wooden table, and maybe they'd mistake the old bloodstains all over the place for paint or ketchup. In general, it would be good to see, make them feel like things were truly splendid in there.

"Spah if ya fall off yer chair one more time Ah'm gonna kill ya."

"Peace friends!"

Pyro threw a flaming teacup at Soldier's face.

"YOU ARE RUINING MY GOOD TEA PARTY!"

"I'LL HEAL IT DON'T VORRY."

"I luv dip."

That random person would be very, hopelessly wrong.

~REC ROOM~

Somehow – and for the _love of God_, don't ask how – the Demoman had managed to drink at least half the scrumpy when the bottle fell on him. Also he was unconscious for a few seconds, but that was a minor detail.

The Scotsman realised he was on the floor and decided the best course of action would be to get off it. Huh. He felt kinda funny.

"Funny _peculiar_," he clarified aloud, as opposed to 'funny haha'. It felt like someone had taken his personality for a ride backward down a motorway on the Loch Ness monster then suddenly smooshed it back to normal.

A few moments of careful, in-depth, nearly sober deliberation later he figured that's exactly what had happened. _But the alcohol had fixed it_.

Ooh boy, now it was up to the drunk guy to save everybody else.

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**You just know it's gonna go well :p**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Fixing The Mercs

**Thanks for the reviews! You guys are the bestest! :D**

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Chapter Three – Fixing the Mercs and Getting in Fights

~ENGY'S WORKSHOP~

"And then I reversed away out of sheer horror and came to you," RV said, sitting in the foetal position in her Transformed shape. "Any advice, Pro?"

Prometheus paused to have a little think. The Aperture turret was always dealing with pressing issues like this, though usually less scarring. He supposed the ideal way out of this would be to recite an intelligent-sounding quote;

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results." He chirped.

"… Uh huh. So you're saying they're _not_ insane?" RV checked dubiously. Prometheus remained silent, mind already wondering as to why he was always in Engy's workshop when he belonged to Medic. Suspecting she wouldn't be getting a response, RV headed back to the garage for a nap, accidently taking out a chunk of ceiling as she did so.

…

It was because Engy called him cute, Prometheus decided. That was why.

~KITCHEN~

The Engineer had tried to flip the table in an unprovoked fit of rage, only for it to bounce right back up. Medic had thought of everything. He even had a squad of doves on standby who caught all the teacups before they could shatter and placed them carefully back down. This only made Engy angrier and jump through the ceiling to get away from everyone.

Ignoring the cry of alarm from Scout upstairs, an upset Heavy declared his tea party ruined, using some very sophisticated language for 'Goddammit am I frustrated'. Medic panicked and tried to heal all the team as Soldier sat obliviously in his chair, humming to himself.

Sniper quit bothering Pyro because that made two fistfights they'd gotten into now (and two times he'd been set on fire), so he pestered Spy by yelling 'BOTHER' until the Frenchman passed out laughing.

The Demoman watched the above happen from the doorway.

Wow that sounded creepy.

Either way he was certain his hypothesis was correct; his teammates' personalities were _flip turned upside down and he'd like to take a minute just sit right there he'll tell us how he's gonna fix all the mercs over there._

"… I wha?"

Oh damn.

~UPSTAIRS~

It would be fair to say the Engineer was much closer to 'pissed off' than 'mellow' on the scale of current existence. A symptom of this included violently taking out all inner aggression on some innocent bystander.

Cue wrong-place-at-wrong-time-Scout.

"_Argh please don't hurt me_," the runner whimpered like a little sissie, forgetting how to breathe briefly as he tried to dodge the Engineer.

Engy wasn't having that, no siree.

"STAY STILL WANKER I WANNA HIT SOMETHING." Wait did he just say- "I'M SO ANGRY I HAVE NO ACCENT AND JUST USED SNIPER'S CATCHPHRASE." Son of a gun.

In blind panic Scout bolted into the nearest doorway and dove to the floor for some reason. A little mini sentry on the desk (this must've been Engy's own room) beeped in alarm as the young merc army crawled under the bed just as Engy himself appeared.

Naturally that drew Engy's attention to the wee gun. _Sitting there just asking for trouble_. The RED strode up to it dramatically, each stride emphasised by a loud thump. The mini sentry shrunk down, actually shaking, the poor thing. Engy slowly raised a fist, ready to punch the ever-loving-poop out of it… then stopped.

He _wanted _to beat it up. He knew he did. It was such an easy target. Potential rage-unleashing object. Yeah. He was gonna hit it. Dead. Yeah.

But.

IT WAS SO GOSH DARN CUTE!

Engy felt a little something twinge in his brain as his fury evaporated and he hugged the mini sentry, full on sobbing in shame and regret. He spammed 'Sorry' the way everybody else spammed 'Medic' until he was ideally a mess on the floor. Somewhere in the background Scout snuck away as Engy carefully placed the sentry in its nightlight spot on the desk, apologising profusely.

Merc and machine had a brief conversation in Morse code, skating over the topics of 'what the Hell happened there' and 'what now'. The no-longer-terrified mini sentry suggested Engy go find Teddy Roosebelt.

The bear really was the brains of the operation around here.

"Much obliged," Engy patted the sentry and headed out, adding, "Ah'm real sorry about that seriously Ah'll buy ya somthin' nice."

~KITCHEN. AGAIN. BOO~

Demoman had a Demoplan.

He slid along the wall, not seeming to notice how much of the wallpaper came away with him, floating around like thin, torn leaves. Apparently he thought himself invisible as he crept in the team's line of sight, though in fairness most of them seemed occupied.

All the Demoman had to do was fix the mercs one at a time, under the assumption that 'repaired' guys would help him out, of course. On the plus side there were only really two ways this could go; _really_ well, or _terribly, horribly _badly.

He like those odds!

Demo figured Pyro would be the easiest to revert back from Grumpy McGrumpy Pants. The merc was over at the end of the table, staring with such fury at a teacup that the inanimate thing seemed to shiver.

"Commence the plan!" Demo cried, totally sticking with the stealth thing. He whipped a can of paint from nowhere and sticky jumped across the room, flinging rainbow paint everywhere.

Wait what rainbow paint does that even make sense.

Well regardless he pretty much made a rainbow in the kitchen, mostly on the roof and walls. And the air. _They could see the colour of the air._ Think about that. Demo tripped, as was to be expected, and got covered in paint himself before slamming into the wall and making a nice print of himself there.

Pyro ignored it at first. Like the pyromaniac gave a damn about bright colours, paint or _super awesome rainbows holy Balloonicorn in a bubble bath yay_.

Pyro leaped out of its chair, chucked its lighter away and shoved its head into the paint can, relishing in the reintroduction to the wonderful world of Pyroland. It grabbed Demo, hoisted the Scotsman to his feet and started an impromptu ballroom dance. Balloonicorn, Reindoonicorn and their baby Balloondoonicorn joined in doing the Macarena.

Hey foodthatfarts. That one was for you.

"What the Hell my plan worked," Demo observed, wondering if he was drunk enough to be dancing right now. Meh, close enough. "Pyro, ye wanna help me save the others?"

Pyro jumped for joy with an enthusiastic 'Okay!' flouncing around the room despite all the violence and confusion at the table.

~HAVE A DIVIDER THIS WAS GETTING COMPLICATED~

Heavy packed up his tea set at record pace, shoving the cups into a floral little basket that appeared from somewhere. His top hat was crooked and everything.

Medic watched each individual movement in fear of anybody getting stabbed by glass or china or whatever the heck cups are made of.

All of them were covered in dip though. Sniper was quite displeased his party had ended so quickly, but the social butterfly decided to go find a karaoke machine and keep the festivities going.

Spy meanwhile had gotten off the floor, blundered into the table, and was currently draped over it;

"ARGH FOR THE LOVE OF LIEUTENANT BITES THAT HURT." The Frenchman exclaimed, flailing. Soldier graciously tried to help him but forgot his own strength and launched Spy across the room, knocking over the fridge.

Right it was annoying me so I looked it up and tea cups are made of a ceramic type thing.

Anyway. Heavy sorted his tea stuff and walked haughtily away, looking positively ridiculous with his tiny woven basket in tow. This bothered Medic because now everyone was respectably far away from each other; he couldn't take care of them all at once. Or… could he?

"To zhe infirmary!" the doctor super-jumped from the kitchen and sprinted down the hallway, lab coat suddenly cape-like. Archimedes followed overhead, vocalising some kind of theme song as they went.

Demo and Pyro watched them disperse, leaving the klutz of a Spy and hippie of a Soldier behind to do whatever it was they did while they were doing whatever they did or didn't do.

"Any ideas in yer wee noggin?" Demo asked, somehow even more drunk than two minutes ago. Pyro turned to Thoughtful Mode, popping on a thinking cap. Balloondoonicorn sat on top with a funny little squishy noise. It fell off and had to be caught by Reindoonicorn when Pyro got the idea.

"'Murca!"

"America?" Demo repeated, "Tha' could work! To Solly's room!" Then those two super-jumped out of the kitchen with Balloonicorn singing a theme song.

~UPSTAIRS~

After taking the stairs two at a time twice (they tumbled down on the first attempt) Demo and Pyro galloped to the Soldier's room and busted through the door. Pyro did a quick handstand to feel like a secret agent then flopped into the room, giggling uncontrollably.

"Righto, grab everythin' American!" Demo commanded, bringing up a Wiki article on stereotypes because that makes perfect sense in the sixties. Seventies. I think this is MvM time.

POINT IS, the REDs got the loot and hurried back to the kitchen. Their original intention was to up the ante and sing a super American song as they ran, but they ended up humming More Gun for some reason.

~MEANWHILE, MUNITIONS ROOM~

"Teddy? Are ya in here?" Engy knocked over-politely on the munitions room door and, after a pause, shuffled inside. He'd tried the workshop first, but when he didn't find his teddy there this seemed like the most likely place.

And quite right, Teddy Roosebelt was on the table. Well, it was either a table or just a pile of sketches and flawed battle plans on table legs. Bit of both, perhaps.

Engy sighed a little sigh and tiptoed to the whatever-it-was, taking off his hardhat. Teddy deliberately turned around.

"Aw, Teddy, don't give me that look," Engy pleaded, "Y'know Ah'm a sucker for cute things…"

Teddy waited.

"_Teddy_," Engy pouted. "Ah dunno what happened… Everyone's gone all weird too."

Teddy knew this, having a lot of brain power in that fluffy little head of his, but if Engy was back to normal then surely there was a way out of it. Just like that, the Engineer was forgiven and the great Roosebelt was on board.

~KITCHEN NEEDS A COOLER NAME~

"AMERICAAAAA!" Demo and Pyro bellowed, leaping through the kitchen door with the American flag billowing behind them. Soldier, conveniently, was the only one still in the room, sitting blankly at the table. He withdrew from the land of daydreaming to watch his teammates make fools of themselves as they flounced back and forth, now 'singing' the TF2 Theme.

Soldier looked on as the red, white and blue montage took over the room. Wow. That- that was…

_That was beautiful._

"AMERICA!" Soldier yelled, spontaneously catching fire as his helmet magically appeared in its rightful place on his head. All the flowers vanished in, as far as Pyro was concerned, a shower of sparkles, and Soldier ran gleefully around the table chanting 'USA' for several minutes.

It was the most American thing he did since *insert excessive stereotype here*

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**THE PLAN WAS A PSEUDO SUCCESS! So far. Hm.**

**Thank you for reading! :p**


	4. The Rest of 'Em

**Oops. I got carried away; this chapter's a bit bigger :p**

**Thanks very much for the reviews!**

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Chapter Four – The Rest of the Team and Stuff (With a Distinct Lack of Spy I Wonder Why)

~REC ROOM~

The Soldier, Pyro and Demoman sat themselves down in the rec room, evidently exhausted already as they sprawled gracefully over the chairs. I'm hoping everyone picked up on the whole 'gracefully' being sarcasm thing. Yeah.

Anyway, plan time.

"So we switched personalities?" Soldier checked again, as though disbelieving. Demo nodded extra slowly because that certainly looked wiser. "And we need to 'fix' everyone?" This time Pyro confirmed it, clapping and cheering 'He's got it!'

"The question is, how?" Demo asked, getting up to pace, remembering he was drunk, and flopping back down. "Scoot, Heavy, Medic, Sniper, Spy and possibly Engy (*cough* though I think he probably worked it oot in his own narrative *cough*) are still a' messed up."

Something rare was about to happen.

Soldier was in the process of offering a splendid idea.

A brilliant, flawless plan that would surely mean this story could go ahead and end cuz everything would be fine, just like that.

Then Sniper appeared with the karaoke machine.

"G'day!" he said brightly in sing song, "You wankas ready to paaaaarty?"

He punched the on button and pulled several mics from nowhere, chucking them at his fellow REDs. Suddenly wearing Demo's shutter shades, Sniper started them off;

"THIS WAS A TRIUMPH! I'M MAKING A NOTE HERE: HUGE SUCCESS!"

Now, there were a couple of fair reasons why nobody joined in. Firstly, Pyro had been punched in the face by the mic and was involuntarily studying the roof from the floor. In its flailing descent the offense class slapped Demo upside the head which was rather unhelpful.

That left the Soldier, who didn't sing along because he was running at the Sniper, making a fist as he went. _Pow._

"Still alive…" Sniper warbled dizzily, slumping to the base of the wall he just hit. Well, the wall Soldier launched him into. More accurate.

Demo and Pyro stared on blankly, the latter wondering why Sniper was taking an impromptu nap over there. Demo was thinking they should probably check the marksman's pulse.

"There." Soldier stated simply. "We'll deal with him later. Follow me, maggots!"

~OUTSIDE~

Sir Heavy Weapons Guy was in quite a state by this point. Was not _one _of his teammates sophisticated enough to enjoy afternoon tea and spirited conversation with him?

The merc tutted aloud, walking this obnoxious little walk back and forth in front of the base. His giant-ass shadow trailed faintly across the wall alongside, a slight reminder the sun was on its way down and it wouldn't do for a gentleman to be wasting time like this at night.

Well now. Where to go? He headed for the more-broken-than-not red door, stepping through with a small dip in his stride so the top hat would fit comfortably. Heavy weighed up his options, glancing to the left and right as though surveying the hallways.

Hm. He always liked going straight ahead. He placed his tea basket down on the nearest flat surface (incidentally, a Mann Co crate combined with a toaster) and moseyed toward the infirmary.

~SAID INFIRMARY~

"It's perfect!" Medic cried manically, "PERFECT!" He spun in slow motion, blaring his very best evil laugh. Until of course Heavy walked in. "HEAVY ARE YOU HURT OH LORD I'LL HEAL YOU." The doctor vaulted right over his desk and practically shoved the medigun on Heavy's head.

"No, thank you, dear chap," he said politely, subtly backing the Hell away. Medic shrugged and withdrew, returning to whatever he was up to.

From where Heavy was standing, it looked an awful lot like Medic was giving a tiny medigun to Archimedes. Who was wearing a tiny lab coat. Tiny cute things are cute.

Heavy made an inquiry about what was going on there. Medic turned to him;

"Oh, vell, remember my inner monologue from zhe last chapter, and I vas all 'Or can I look after you all'?" Heavy blinked. "…Never mind. Point is I'm training Archie here to use zhe medigun. Zhis tiny medigun look how cute it is." He did a wee clap like in the Adult Swim trailer because d'aw.

"… I see." Heavy responded flatly, subconsciously adjusting a non-existent monocle.

Things seemed a bit awkward all of a sudden.

…

Let's see what else is going on.

~UPSTAIRS~

Soldier led Pyro and Demo upstairs, two of them sporting unusual-shaped bruises. The last two. Shaped like microphones. I wasn't sure if that made sense. I'm making it worse. Sorry.

Regardless, the three REDs wandered the second floor, hopping over the cracks and clambering through the caved-in corridors. Ignoring the occasional glimpse of overcast sky through the roof, the mercs reinforced the plan in their minds.

"Okay maggots- two step plan! Demo, gimmie one!"

"Find Scout!"

"Correct! Pyro- two!"

*Gibberish*

"… That's probably right. Let's go!"

Operation: Soldier's name gets to go first cuz he made the plan and Demo and Pyro's Epic Rescue Mission Act the First. Of One Act. Huzzah!

They split up, spreading their line of searching across the entire floor as best as possible. Pyro took the bedroom area, knocking exactly seven times on every door even though chances were nobody was in there. Doesn't hurt to be polite after all, the merc reckoned. And if all else failed, it could burn the doors down, so everybody would win.

The Demoman meanwhile had the awkward and largely unnecessary task of going through the middle, where there _were _no rooms. This trial involved mining through a few supporting pillars and uncovering a few weapons and crates embedded in the walls, so it resembled something of an interactive museum trip if anything.

Finally, the Soldier took the back hallway; that was the one with the Gibus Room and a couple of cupboards. He checked the bathroom first, took a whizz when he found it empty, then moved on to the storage units.

Opening the first revealed everyone's unwanted Mann Co crates and scrap metal in such an untidy heap Engy would have exploded in horror if he saw it. Soldier closed the door both literally and on that thought, then checked the next of the four cupboards.

"Empty? How dull…" Soldier mused, as if having such a waste of space was a crime. Maybe it was. Unfortunately he checked the third cupboard while I was thinking that. "Author? What are you doing in there!?"

… Well how did you _think_ I knew exactly how all this stuff was happening!?

Soldier moved on against his will to the last door, crying 'THIS ISN'T OVER!' Pissed off by this point, he wrenched on the door handle and tore it straight off. The door, that is, he ripped the _door_ right off. Do not fight this man.

The most peculiar wee 'Argh' sounded from somewhere in the depths of the cupboard, the kind of noise a moth might make if it sneezed. Found him.

"DEMO! PYRO!" Soldier hollered over his shoulder, "Get over here!"

Apparently he forgot to use his inside voice.

"… That may have been a mistake." Soldier acknowledged helpfully. The RED was quite correct.

Scout seemed smaller than ever as he bolted past his fellow American and sprinted away in panic, vanishing round a corner just as Pyro and Demo arrived.

"Oh, ye found 'im?" Demo asked, stepping into the exact wrong (and empty) cupboard with the supposedly-safe assumption that's where Scout was. Thing is he was so drunk he managed to lock himself in there sometime during the half second it took for Soldier to turn around.

Pyro facepalmed, making an odd squeaky noise as glove met gasmask. It found this hilarious and was quickly reduced to a spaced-out pyromaniac jabbing itself in the face.

Pulling out a rocket launcher, Soldier decided that ain't nobody got time for dat.

Fun fact: It only takes one rocket to simultaneously blow the door off a cupboard and launch a Pyro several feet down a corridor.

~SOMEWHERE ELSE UPSTAIRS~

In a warzone, or whatever this endless RED Vs BLU feud was, conflict remained a concept impossible to avoid. Fighting and loud noises built up the better part of life, much to the displeasure of our shy little Scout buddy.

His agenda today, just fyi, involved _not_ getting in fights or hearing any particularly loud noises. Shame, really; now he'd never accomplish that. On the positive side he still had the chance at 'Unbox an unusual'. Unlikely, but not impossible.

Ooh. Fatal error there, letting his attention stray. Rocket-wall-jumping Soldier with the intention of tackling him came fairly speeding along, helmet posing as something of a battering ram. The American saluted in midair - because _America _– but had quite failed to consider that Scout would have the presence of mind to duck.

"Goddammit…" Soldier grumbled, sailing way past his mark and bouncing off the far wall. Well, _bounced_ may not be the most appropriate term, but bone-shattering impact just seemed too wordy.

Scout fled again, only to bump straight into the Demoman.

"Eep!" Scout skittered past the Scotsman, smacking his face off the wall but continuing to run anyway. Wimpy trooper he was.

Then of all things _ninja Pyro_ dropped from the ceiling and squished him.

Scout babbled incoherently on the floor while Demo and Soldier caught up.

"Either I'm tripping," the latter stated, slightly in shock, "or I just got healed by a Medic-Dove with a tiny medigun."

Medic-in-training Archimedes cooed somewhere down the hall, proud of himself.

"Anyway," Soldier shuddered, "to the fridge!"

~IN BETWEEN FLOORS; THEY JUMPED THROUGH THE ROOF AGAIN~

Dragging a very confused and flustered Scout, the three mercs who've been dominating this chapter crash-landed into that darn kitchen once again. Fortunately they sprung off the bubble wrap relatively unharmed (what was a sprained wrist here or there really?) and opened the tipped-over fridge. Demo rummaged through the horizontal box-of-magic-food-preservation until locating the heart of their plan.

_A can of Bonk! Atomic Punch_.

~KEEPING YOU IN SUSPENSE BECAUSE BACK UPSTAIRS…~

Engy, Teddy Roosebelt in tow, walked anxiously through the hallway housing the team's bedrooms. He had a little idea on how to fix the personality of a certain Heavy Weapons Guy, but he didn't really like it.

There were two potential outcomes; either-

Wait. After a small amount of careful deliberation, the Engineer realised the only result would be his own death. That… was not ideal.

The merc halted outside the Heavy's room, the towering planks of the very door looming threateningly. Even Teddy seemed a tad uncertain. However, just as the pair of them gathered their somewhat-manly courage and prepared to shove their way inside, a high pitched whine reverberated through the air, followed by a gust of wind.

Well. Scout's back.

"HEY ENGY!" he dashed past once, "HOW'S IT GOIN'?" He zigzagged in front of the bedrooms a couple of times, then suddenly appeared in Engy's vision, jogging on the spot. "I'm, like, not shy or anythin' anymore and dude I'm so hyper I had Bonk oh my God oh my God _GET HELP_ AHAHAHA!"

Engy blinked slowly, collecting his thoughts, then made a simple suggestion that solved his problem.

"Y'know… It couldn't hurt to go in there and touch Sasha." He mused quietly, sounding a bit guilty.

"OKAY!" Scout yelled agreeably, jumping up and down twice before zipping into the Heavy's room, kicking Sasha the minigun and fleeing again.

He met Engy, Soldier, Pyro and Demo in the hallway in the very moment there was an earthquake.

Or at least, the base trembled violently because someone down in the infirmary had just screamed at the top of his massive lungs and started to sprint with his earth-shattering stride toward his beloved minigun.

Here comes Heavy Weapons Guy.

Within a heartbeat the defence class appeared in the corridor, and used some kind of mystic power to determine exactly who dared touch Sasha.

"Scout," he growled, "You. Are. DEAD."

Scout glanced around, then pointed at his own chest for confirmation.

"YES." Heavy boomed, cracking his knuckles with an alarming crunch, "YOU."

Fidgeting with his dog tags, Scout paused to consider whether he was okay with that. On a scale of yes to no… No. He bolted.

~TEN MINUTES LATER, THE REC ROOM~

Engy, of all people, was usually most successful at pulling the shreds of positivity from the shredder of mass destruction. So, _sure_, maybe the base was further battered and Scout took two trips through respawn, _but_ they'd also fixed Heavy.

Surely, that was a victory.

It also left just three of the mercs to be rebooted! Yay! And because Engy and Sniper are best bros in my headcanon the former had another idea. He's full of those today.

"Hey Sniper." Engy said, wincing as Scout and Soldier kicked the slumped-against-the-wall Sniper for attention. "Y'know yer partyin'…?" He put on a very serious, no messing with this guy voice, "_It's real UNPROFESSIONAL._"

That did it. Sniper skittered backward up the wall until standing straight, trembling in horror and babbling his standards under his breath.

"_Be polite be efficient have a plan to kill everyone you meet that's a professional I'm a professional bloody 'ell what'm I doin'!?_" He grabbed Heavy's shotgun because the defence class was closest and unloaded several shots into the karaoke machine, hyperventilating long after it was dead. He lobbed the empty gun at the pile of scrap metal in a last act of 'OH MY GOD' before tugging his shirt sleeves neatly back down and readjusting his hat.

"… Y'alright, lad?" Demo checked in the ensuing silence, shifting awkwardly from foot-to-foot. There was a long pause in which the poor Sniper composed himself, building up the tension only to eventually utter a quiet,

"Yup."

… Anticlimactic.

"Maybe we should go save Doctor?" Heavy suggested helpfully. Sounds like a plan, Heavy. Thanks.

* * *

**To sum up- Misadventures were had :D**

**Oh, and 3-D Jak? Here's 'How Falsie Writes This Series'! *themesong***

**Step One; Write the first thing that springs to mind**

**... There is no step two :p**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Oh There's Spy

**Hey guys! Sorry it's been a wee while; had artwork and English essays to finish before the end of term (only one day to go!)**

**Either way here we are! Thanks for the reviews! :D**

* * *

Chapter Five – Oh There's Spy (and Getting Revenge and Miscellanea)

~BUT FIRST, THE INFIRMARY~

"Oh, you broke your arm again?" Medic mused, staring attentively at the bone that probably shouldn't have been sticking out of Scout's wrist, "How interesting. Zhis is vhat happens vhen you touch Sasha, I see."

"… So we fixed the Doc," Soldier concluded, watching the support class prod experimentally at the injury.

"Told ye an Übercharge would do it," Demo said, a hint of pride in his tone. The cyclops decided not to mention how said Übercharge had made Medic go on a brief but spectacular rampage and destroy anything useful in the infirmary.

Unnecessary memory. Shudder shudder.

Let's instead focus on wee innocent Pyro sitting in the corner, fashioning a tiny hat out of a plastic bottle cap for Archimedes.

Oh wait, you were all wonderin' where ol' Spy is, weren't ya?

~WHERE SPY IS (FINALLY)~

Spy.

Right away, the very name would make one think of a classy, backstabbing badass who probably wore fancy-butt suits and fedoras while being a metaphorical-ladykiller and literal-mankiller.

Let's try again. Spy.

The very name would go ahead and conjure up the image of a rather clumsy bloke making his unsteady way through the random space that _was _the middle of nowhere. He stubbed his toe on a near-invisible rock and blurted some unorthodox cuss words as he stumbled, staggering a crazy amount of paces before he regained his balance.

Obviously, there was a little flawed wizardry going on here.

"I'm narrating what I'm doing so there's at least a little dialogue!" Spy announced, trying to fix his tie but almost strangling himself, poor soul. "Lawl walking."

Now, back when the team had that little shopping trip fiasco, Sniper and Demo had that weird episode where they homed toward the ocean.

This… was only a fraction like that at all.

Spy didn't have any particular destination in mind; he literally just up and left the base in a bid for the Hell of it. Out in no Mann's land, the suited-fellow wandered further and further into the unknown. Granted, the REDs did that a lot, but as a _unit_. Of morons.

"I am very lost oh _damn Frenchman in a duck costume_."

… What.

Spy whipped a duck costume out of his inventory and sauntered onward. Point is, he was definitely headed _somewhere_. It was only logical really. Thing is, the Badlands were awfully vast, and ignoring the scattered Team Fortress Industries bases the scenery repeated itself in a rather bland pattern time and time again.

Personality-flipped Spy would need a completely undignified, super cool mode of transportation to spice the journey up a little.

~EIGHTEEN SECONDS LATER~

"I'm riding on a flying baguette because those are stereotypically related to French dudes," Spy hummed, doing exactly as he said. The baguette skimmed the ground at high speed, surprisingly, making Spy appear to be in a solo game of Quidditch for some kind of French team.

Well, the mascot. He was still in the duck costume.

"Now I'll reach my _AWESOME_ destination in half the time!" the merc squealed happily, attempting 'No hands!' and promptly falling off the baguette and breaking his nose. "… Or not."

He positively ignored the blood gushing from his facial region and regained his feet. Ach. Bad day. He couldn't, on top of everything else, help but feel something was up. Was he usually _not_ a complete klutz or something? At the moment, that seemed beyond unlikely.

"Maybe I'm on a journey of discovery to find my true self, and I will overcome many trials and meet some kind of helpful companion to teach me the ways of the world and they'll make a movie of it…" Spy thought aloud, strolling onward. "But how will I know where to begin this tale of brilliance?"

At that point he walked straight into a stone wall, headbutting the bricks quite forcefully.

"Ow son of a panda," Spy muttered, rubbing his dented forehead. He cast his eyes slowly upward to see what he _dared _walk into to see the towering walls of a castle.

Ooh. Wasn't all that impressive. Several wooden doors missing just as many planks barely gripped their hinges, making the building itself look like it was drooping in self-pity. Towers that may once upon a time been magnificent resembled mushrooms made of cardboard. By a drunk guy.

More prominent than all that was the stench of expired sour cream. And the refrigerator which seemed to be gradually being shoved up from under the ground, emitting a chorus of raccoon noises.

"Probably a plumbing problem," Spy mused, enjoying the taste of alliteration. On a whim, he headed for the front door (or what was left of it) and let himself inside. "That's some shonky business," he said in a flawless Australian accent, watching a few raccoons carrying power tools scurry past.

He shrugged, managing to dislocate his shoulder, and moseyed further into the castle. The ex-mentlegen hadn't gone too far before he heard a couple of voices arguing;

"No, see, that would just make them all violently explode!" a rather deep, echo-y one cried first, "Honestly, Bombinomicon, why must everything be _explosives_ with you!?"

"Clue's in the name, buddy!" the second voice retorted sharply, "AND I'M TRYIN' TO HELP YOU HERE. BE GRATEFUL."

"Whatever. The personality-switchy spell needs to be resolved before the mercenaries start having weird hallucinations and find this place!"

Spy figured this would be an ideal time to walk in there.

"… Now what did I tell you?" Merasmus turned pointedly to the Bombinomicon when the Frenchman appeared. "Now I'll have to recalibrate him." The wizard grumbled, wondering what he'd done to deserve this involvement in Misadventures of the RED Team. He floated to his cauldron, dramatically raising a giant wand which came from seemingly nowhere and causing a whole load of green sparks to fly like an unusual effect.

Then he simply spun around and clubbed Spy upside the head with it.

"Oh, well, I like that solution," Bombinomicon commented, cover slightly opening as he tilted to look down at the merc. Spy stayed on the floor for a bit, cursing in French, so Merasmus just awkwardly scratched the back of his neck;

"Okay. Now we can only hope the rest of his team are not on their way here." He blinked. "WAIT I SHOULD _NOT _HAVE SAID THAT PLEASE DON'T GO TO-"

~BACK AT THE BASE, AH HA~

"So where do ya reckon Spah ran off to?" Engy asked, absently fondling Teddy's ears as the team sat around in the rec room. Well, Demo, Pyro, Soldier and Scout were playing snap at the table, but besides them. Heavy sighed,

"Now we have to go find him, da?"

"I'd rather we didn't," Sniper interjected quickly. He carefully avoided eye-contact with the team lest Soldier start his 'no man left behind' rant. "Wh- what I meant was, how'll we find 'im?"

"I can think of somebody who might know," Medic said, heaving himself out of his chair and leading the mercs through the base.

~ENGY'S WORKSHOP~

"Prometheus!" Medic called, finding his little Aperture turret in one corner. "Ve need your help in finding zhe Spy, bitte."

The mercs gathered around like Pro was a tiny campfire on a chilly night, waiting intently for the wisdom to come forth. Archimedes fluttered down and sat on the turret's head as he thought.

"Home," Prometheus chirped after a pause, "is where you hang your hat."

Now, that was a tad cryptic anyway, so no one really expected Soldier of all people to immediately understand;

"OH MY GOD." He hopped up and down excitably, "I left a hat hanging in Merasmus' place! Reunion! Let's go get RV!" He rocket jumped through the base, leaving the others to follow before he killed himself.

This could only end in success.

~RACCOON SANCTUARY/CASTLE~

Spy wasn't injured. Oh no, of course not. He simply was enjoying lying on the cold floor, staring at the distant roof wavering in his vision. Okay no he was likely bleeding out but pride would do things to a man.

The RED craned his neck to glare at Merasmus, the combination of anger and horror in his personality flip making him not a very happy bunny. He watched the magician anxiously levitate back and forth across the room, muttering about bad roommates and brands of ice cream for when this was over.

Right. He was the target. _Spy was getting revenge_.

He envisioned a little structure diagram, working out problem number one to be getting off the damn floor. Hm, he could always try the reliable old 'leap up like nothing's wrong ha ha body I tricked you' tactic.

"AH HA!" the Spy cried, springing skyward in a dramatic arch. He flipped over and smacked his face off the table, but his original skillz had come back with a vengeance, letting him regain his footing. "Ow."

Now part two of the data flow was How To Get Revenge On Dat Wizard Dude. Ooh boy, that was an impractical problem even Engy wouldn't care to deal with. Well, he might, considering the spell or whatever that made him all cranky.

"Hm… maybe Monsieur Merasmus (oops plothole how do I know his name) should have a TASTE OF HIS OWN MEDICINE!" Spy cackled evilly. He began to wonder how bad that blow to the head actually was. "… I'll need to learn magic."

Books were the primary source of learning anything from magic to cookie baking, so Spy had a looksee for one of those.

As some kind of fate or divine intervention would have it, he found the Bombinomicon.

"Hey buddy," the book said when Spy approached, startling the merc.

"Do I know you?" Spy checked dubiously, taking the talking book thing in stride. He slowly circled the pedestal Bombinomicon rested on, thinking how he was really needing a holiday away from his misadventures. (And how he would never get one, poor dear)

"Nah, not really; I'm the guy haunting your buddy's eye," the book replied pleasantly.

Somewhere not too far away, the Demoman sneezed.

"Oh." Spy blinked, quietly disturbed, "That's nice. Well anyway I was planning on getting revenge on your wizard, ah, 'buddy'."

The Bombinomicon surprised him in offering to help out straight away. Apparently life becomes a pretty dull experience when it's that of a book. Spy carried it to the cauldron, sneaking past the wizard who had taken to slowly banging his head against the wall.

"This oughta be _real_ simple," Bombinomicon assured the RED, "Cuz if he could do it, anyone can, y'know? _In theory anyway._"

Spy blanched; "Did I just hear a disclaimer?"

"All ya gotta do is imagine the place he's at or something, then… I dunno. It happens." Bombinomicon tried to shrug, remembered it was a book, and got a little sad. The giddiness returned with the thought of personality-flipping Merasmus.

The Spy moved uncertainly to the front of the cauldron, peering inside with the caution of a fellow trying to steal the Sandvich of a sleeping Heavy. This seemed to be rather a risky endeavour.

"I may as well say it," Spy resigned himself to his fate, "_What's the worst that could happen_?"

He pictured the ruined castle in his mind's eye and attempted to summon magic-y thoughts.

Pfft, like this was gonna work.

~JUST OUTSIDE~

RV pulled up outside Merasmus' place just in time to witness a great green light envelope the building like some kind of space monster ate it.

… My similes are getting worse.

The RED team piled out, Soldier's expression being dominated by a cartoonish, nostalgic grin. The second the eight of them (plus pocket buddies and co) were out RV ran off, terrified and just so done with these guys.

"Should, uhh, should we go up there?" Engy asked nobody in particular. Pyro seemed to be attracted to the bright lights and nodded, enchanted, when the very man they came to see appeared at the front door.

"Gentlemen," Spy greeted tersely, "Interesting development."

"Yeah, we hadn't seen ya for a chapter, so," Scout shrugged, not really paying attention anyway. The Demoman too was distracted, staring suspiciously at the building. Something was afoot in dere.

_He could feel it._ Chills.

"Um." Sniper gingerly pointed to the castle-come-sanctuary. "What?"

Spy paused, surveying the scenery and inhaling deeply as he psyched himself;

"You see, *long explanation of what the reader already knows* and now, it would appear something went… awry. The wizard and book may have turned psychotic and may be out to kill us. Violently."

Awkward silences happened often with this team. This wasn't one of them.

"LET'S FIGHT ZHE EVIL VIZARD!" Medic yelled, raising a bonesaw, "HE MADE ME CARE ABOUT YOU AND ZHAT'S UNACCEPTABLE!"

The team tried not to appear hurt by that comment.

"Wanna just… go… attack the wizard? Yeah?" Demo mused, not making the connections he should have been making about wizards and books. General affirmatives came from the team and they grabbed their weapons, fairly confident there wouldn't be any challenge here.

~ONE EMBARRASSINGLY SHORT BATTLE LATER~

"We got owned by a freakin' magician," Scout noted, embedded in a wall alongside the rest of the mercs. There was losing, and then there was horrifying, crushing defeat. This was edging toward the latter.

"Wait, so, even after fixin' everyone, we _still _have to fix _them_?" Sniper asked glumly, extracting himself from the wall.

"Well how did all of _you _fix each other?" Spy said, grumpy about his rather painful reversion.

Pyro suddenly launched into a dramatic speech about the qualities of teamwork, how the proud friends that were the RED mercs knew each other to the powerful extent of amazingness and could overcome any challenge if they were just awesome and supported everyone through all of time.

"Or," Soldier interjected into the ensuing silence, "we could go get my raccoon army and take over."

~PYRO POUTED A BIT BUT WE WENT WITH THAT PLAN~

"All in all," Heavy summarised, looking over the burning wreckage that was Merasmus' place, "this went well, yes?"

"Um, we didn't _kill _them, right?" Engy shifted anxiously, "They got respawn too… don't they?"

…

"Sure, Engy, sure they do!"

"Of course!"

"Aha ha… ha."

Lieutenant Bites, currently sitting on Soldier's head, quickly determined that the entire team were morons.

"ANYWAY," Scout said loudly, "let's go home. Leave the de- _alive_ wizard guy here. Yeah."

"I think I liked it better vhen you vere shy…" Medic muttered.

"I liked it better when you GAVE A DAMN!" Demo cried emotionally. "… I may be drunk."

The team gave a collective, slow nod as they walked away, heading toward their base. Awful long way to walk though…

"Wait, wait what- what even- what is that?" Sniper had found this particular stream of events to be positively mind-numbing.

"Oh. That." Spy said flatly, staring at the object in question. "That's a flying baguette."

…

…

_**...**_

"Shotgun," Engy called.

* * *

_**I had no idea how to end this. **_**Also, The End :)**

**Well thank you very muchly for reading! You folks are so awesome!**

**Hopefully you'll stick around for future spinoffs!**

**-Falsie out :p**


End file.
